


Prodigal Sister

by KLStarre



Category: Not Another D&D Podcast (Podcast)
Genre: Flashbacks, Gen, Lovers To Enemies, The Crick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-10-06 03:28:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20500115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KLStarre/pseuds/KLStarre
Summary: Marabelle's betrayal in the eyes of those who loved her most.





	1. Cobb

Maybe Cobb was a fool. His elders had told him he was, when he had begun courting Marabelle instead of Jolene. And maybe they were right. But Jolene had been perfect, and Marabelle had been headstrong, and angry, and, frankly, more like him.

She still was headstrong and angry, he figured, running his thumb over the hammer of the gun at his belt. They just weren’t traits that were nearly as appealing, under the current circumstances. He had walked off alone, even though he and Jolene had agreed to stay together as long as Marabelle was at large and they didn’t know when she would strike next. But he had just needed some _damned _time alone.

There was a conveniently placed tree stump, too small to live in, and he walked over to it and sat on it, carefully not stepping on the mushrooms that were liable to sprout anywhere. Old habits died hard, he figured. And, well, no matter how hard he tried to deny it to himself, he was still fucking in love with her. Probably always would be.

The edge of the stump crumbled slightly as his legs pressed against it, wood falling away in a gray dust. It stained his pants, and when he reached down absentmindedly to brush it away it stained his fingers, too. Whatever this disease was, this disease rooted in the very being of the Crick, it was spreading. That kid Deadeye had said something about it, last time he had approached Cobb on his knees begging for a gun, and Cobb had ignored him. Maybe he should have listened, but there had been other things on his mind.

Elbows on his knees, head in his hands. Gun still tucked away, but he could feel the magic of it pulsing against his thigh. Had been a time when he hadn’t needed a magic weapon, when all the magic in his life had been what grew from the Crick. And then he’d fallen in with two of the strongest druids anyone had seen in generations and, well. He’d done his best.

Clearly it hadn’t been enough.

He could remember the first time he and Marabelle had kissed, the way his hands had been covered in mushrooms the instant he had run them through her hair, the way she had smiled against him and then bit his lip and laughed at his surprise. He could remember the way Jolene had grinned when they had told her, even though he’d been afraid she’d be upset. They were perfect for each other, she had said.

What had _happened?_

There was a scream. “Cobb, where the _fuck _are you!” Jolene’s voice, echoing through the forest, and he was up, sprinting in the direction he had last seen her, hand still on his gun and completely ignoring the twigs whipping him in the face as he ran. (He did still dodge the mushrooms, though, which were popping up at a worrying speed. If you had asked him, he wouldn’t have even realized he was doing it.).

When he got to Jolene, standing at the edge of a clearing and standing in the center of a copse of trees so close they looked like they shared roots, they were already fighting. Jolene had her bear spirit glowing behind her, and he stepped into it, feeling himself grow stronger like they had practiced a thousand times before. She was surrounded by animals, all glowing with a faint green light, and they were attacking in coordination with her, leaping at Marabelle with claws and fangs and beaks poised to strike –

Marabelle.

Cobb aimed his gun.


	2. Jolene

Jolene was fucking tired of Cobb’s bullshit. They had _agreed _to stay together, especially today, when there was something off about the air and they had planned for battle, but instead he was doing what seemed to be his norm, lately, and wandering off like he was the only person Marabelle had hurt. Marabelle was her goddamn _sister, _and yet she was still able to keep her act together when she coalesced out of a patch of shadow, mushrooms growing out in a spiral around her, and call for help.

She was still able to call for her animals without a thought, to yell for Cobb even though all she wanted to do was cry, and, before he showed up (_fuck _him for leaving in the first place), she was able to summon the bear that had always protected the three of them and transform into a bear herself.

And here he came, running with his gun out, as if his gun would do shit against Marabelle. As if he’d even be able to shoot.

Jolene growled at her sister with an anger that made it impossible to decipher between woman and beast, and leapt at her, teeth bared. If there was anything besides determination in Marabelle’s eyes, she didn’t see it, and if there was any doubt in her own, she refused to acknowledge it. This was for the _Crick_, for all of her people, for the land that they’d lost Marabelle over to begin with, and she wasn’t going to hold back. She would be weak when there was time to be weak.

Marabelle seemed startled that Jolene had acted so quickly, and so she wasn’t able to stop her tearing into her neck with teeth that had seen battle many, many times. Jolene tasted Marabelle’s blood in her mouth and ignored it, biting down harder, until there was….something else. Something undead which she swallowed involuntarily before pulling away, panting, and turning back into an elf from the shock of it.

Marabelle grinned at her and blew a kiss, and Jolene was expecting it just enough to throw a hand in front of her face and catch the poison of it, channeling it into her quarterstaff as she swung. She dismissed her animals as the quarterstaff connected. It felt wrong not to have them beside her as she fought, but she didn’t know what Marabelle could do, these days, didn’t know how she could turn them against her. So they danced together, just the two of them with an occasional echoing shot from Cobb, Jolene casting spells to restrain and then, when it became clear that Marabelle was aiming to kill, summoning a cloud of lightning that filled the clearing. “Watch a bitch call lightning,” she muttered under her breath as the bolt electrified Marabelle, and then sighed. Marabelle had been the one to teach her that spell.

Marabelle screamed when the lightning hit, before making direct eye contact with Jolene and smiling again. Jolene coughed. It was a normal cough at first, and then it wasn’t, and she was clawing at her throat and falling to her knees, black spores spilling onto her hands as she instinctively covered her mouth. She tried to stand, but couldn’t, legs spasming and chest heaving, and Marabelle walked toward her as if in slow motion.


	3. Marabelle

Jolene (_I’m sorry) _was down. Cobb would never shoot her. She stood over her sister, looking down at her as she shook and bled, and didn’t spare him a glance. She had loved him, once, but right now she couldn’t understand why. At least Jolene, perfect Jolene (_I’m sorry)_, had been able to give her a real fight. Cobb’s bullets had taken a chunk out of her leg, and another out of her shoulder, but she healed them absent-mindedly. He hadn’t been aiming to kill.

The way Jolene (_I’m sorry) _looked up at her was desperately sad. No, pathetic. She meant pathetic. Everything about Jolene (_I’m sorry_) was pathetic, and – why did she keep wanting to _apologize_! Jolene had done nothing but cause her pain, and she was sick of it, had been sick of it for years. That damn- that fucking- that _gnome_had just given her the opportunity to do what she had always wanted to do (_i’m s-) _and she was grateful for it.

“It didn’t have to be like this,” she said, quietly, quietly, lifting up a boot in what felt like slow motion and pressing it down on Jolene’s throat. The skin there was so soft, and grey splotches of mold began to grow, blooming out in spirals up to her face. She knew how fragile life was, of course, had seen it up close too many times to count. But something about being this close to someone she had watched come into the world, and knowing she was about to send her out of it, felt different than what she had witnessed before.

Jolene coughed again, and then reached an arm out to cast a spell, muttering the words as quickly as possible before the next tremor wracked her body. Marabelle just laughed and grabbed her hand, throwing it down and pressing her boot in a little deeper (_i’m sorry i’m sorry i’m sorry i’m -)_. She readied her own spell, ready to infect her sis- her enemy with a disease from which she would never recover, and then stopped.

Behind her, there something. Movement.

She turned her head, just slightly, just enough to feel the cold metal against her neck when her head moved back. Maybe Cobb wasn’t as much as a fool as she had been starting to think.

She couldn’t see his eyes from this angle, and, anyway, she wasn’t going to take a single step away from Jolene, but she had known him well, once. And he wasn’t one of the Cricks best known for change. “You can’t do it,” Marabelle said, voice steady. “Kill me? Who loves you so much?” As she said it, she felt her throat close up and for a brief second remembered that, yes, she _did _love him, and she loved Jolene, too, but then her vision blackened and when it came back, she saw the well-hidden fear in Jolene’s eyes and allowed herself a smile.

“You’re right,” Cobb whispered, lowering the gun, and before he could realize what was happening, Marabelle vanished, leaving nothing but the scent of decay in her wake.

Thirty feet away, now, hidden in the trees and the shadows, she watched Cobb’s arm shake as he dropped his gun, and she watched Jolene’s breathing even out. She watched Cobb reach out a hand to pull her to her feet, and them embrace each other tightly, holding each other like she had once held them both.

Pathetic. She should have killed them both, instead of relishing in her victory. She had never been gladder of anything than to be free of them.

Down her cheek ran a single tear, and she brushed it away without thinking, before turning and walking away.


End file.
